In The Gilded Web, a prank goes awry. Lord Eden arranges the kidnapping of the wrong young woman and the wrong brother finds her tied to a bed, terrified. The situation is all the worse because the victim is Alexandra Purnell, daughter of a notoriously self-righteous ass. Edmund, Earl of Amberley, is appalled at the trouble his younger brother has caused, and offers marriage to avert scandal. Alexandra refuses, scorning him and society in the first of many self-righteous denunciations. (She's a real chip off the old block).
Edmund is the only rational character in The Gilded Web. Unfortunately he's a thinker not a doer. Most of his action consists of apologies for being an oppressor (i.e. male), exhorting Alexandra to do the right thing and like it, and acting like Hamlet. (To be or not to be? That's Edmund all over.) He's a great guy though: he does his best to thaw out Alexandra, muzzle her father, and hold his ridiculous younger brother at bay. (Young Lord Eden inexplicably thinks he has the solution to the problem; if successful, he will utterly embarrass them all.)
There are some nice themes in the book. Alexandra's father has managed to thoroughly suppress her personality; she appears anxious, perhaps even resentful, at Edmund's attempts to draw her out of her shell. Edmund is a thoroughly nice, intelligent, admirable man. For a Regency hero he's practically a feminazi, but why bother debating anachronisms when there's so much else wrong.
1. The common plot-starter of mistaken identity, kidnapping, scandal, and forced engagement can make for a fun read. Balogh doesn't pull it off this time. The entire population of England would have to be drunk and stupid for things to go down as they do.
2. Alexandra and Edmund aren't convincing as a happily-ever-after. They have zero rapport, and there's little development of their relationship. Her lack of "give" allows him to speechify a lot. In one page he spits out:
Do you say so just because I am the man? I refuse to win your compliance on such nonsensical grounds.... You must never give in to me just because I am your betrothed or later because I am your husband. Give in to me because you agree with me. Or else disagree with me and argue and fight to win your point if necessary....That's just a small sample of Edmund's endearing feminist rhetoric. Dog love him for it, but you can practically see Alexandra's eyes rolling back in her head.
It seems to me that woman was created to be man's equal. Adam was bored, was he not, because Eve was created? It was not because he needed someone to lord it over.... What he needed was a companion, someone against whose wits he could sharpen his own, someone to discuss with, argue with, fight with, laugh with. Someone to love, no less....
I suppose you were coerced.... But by circumstances more than by the will of men, surely. Did your father exert undue pressure on you? You said 'men,' not 'a man.' Am I the other? Or Dominic? Perhaps there is some truth in that. Undoubtedly there is. We are weak creatures, I will admit. Sometimes the problem is that it is impossible to know which course of action is right and which wrong.
It's admirable of Edmund to try to let Alexandra make the decisions; I appreciate that he sees the years of damage inflicted by her father. Unfortunately, she's far from being able to overcome her prior training, and her flat unresponsiveness makes her a boring main character.
It's a strange hole in the book: Balogh shows how downtrodden Alexandra is, and provides Edmund as catalyst... but doesn't leave room for the pair to credibly work out that key issue of self-will. As it is, there's a tight schedule for change: the end of the book draws closer and closer, and Alexandra's not making progress. I feel bad for wishing Alexandra would change on cue--it's uncomfortably like telling an abused woman to get over it already. Given that undercurrent, the last-minute revelation feels trite.
3. I usually like Balogh's dialogue, but in this early book it's flat and stilted.
4. A too-stupid-to-live secondary character occupies far too many pages of the book. Lord Eden is self-centered and immature, and it's beyond me why no one puts a stop to his ridiculous connivings. And he's the hero in the next Web book? Ugh. Avoid. His sister's none too bright either; I'd skip that one too.
Balogh acknowledges in a "Dear Reader" letter that
The Gilded Web was first published in 1989 -- a long time ago. I was surprised when I read it again recently to discover how much my writing has changed in the intervening years.Grade: C-/D+
2 Comments:
I've got to agree. I was disappointed by this book, the more so because I felt it had all the potential to be a good book. Your description of Alexandra as 'flat' was so right. It did not feel that there was a 3 dimensional person struggling to get out from behind a repressed mask. She just seemed to BE completely flat.
it had all the potential to be a good book
Exactly--even in this book, some of Balogh's writing is very engaging. And there are some kernels of good material that aren't developed.
Alexandra's so downtrodden that there's nobody home. It's a decent portrait of abuse and depression (probably better than the more common downtrodden-but-feisty heroine). But a flat main character is risky, especially in a character-driven, happily-ever-after romance. It's not an action-heavy book, and Edmund isn't well developed either, so what carries the story forward? If Alexandra was really in such a bad state, maybe the book should have dealt with it more, or stretched the timeline to allow her more recovery. But that would be a different kind of book.
Post a Comment